


Shadow Revolver

by harpybones



Series: Of Humans and Monsters [4]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Ending, Deltarune Spoilers, Deltarune's timeline isn't completely separate from Undertale's, Delusions, Different Universes, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil W. D. Gaster, Gen, Human-Monster War (Undertale), I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insanity, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Asgore Dreemurr/Toriel, Murder, Not really but something like it, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Accident Gaster, Pre-Deltarune, Pre-Undertale, Seam is a voodoo doll, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, The Void, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpybones/pseuds/harpybones
Summary: England's monster King, Spades, is convinced to move underground by his lead Knight after feeling a powerful aura arising to the surface from a mysterious source. Many monsters were not too fond of the idea to leave the light of the sun for the dark musty underground, and stayed behind instead.When the Monster-Human war ended, the once-Lightner monsters were pushed down with the Darkners. Not everyone was pleased with the situation. 4 Kings, and millions of civillians searching for someone to look up to. With the fountains irradiating that toxic euphoria, it seemed as if everyone was going mad as each day passed.But, as long as you have someone to confide in, would that really matter anyway?Even if you're losing your mind?(A history on the Darkners, how they tie to Undertale's timeline, a backstory on Jevil's friendship with Seam and the cause of the jester's madness.)(This can be read as either shipped or not.)





	1. Question Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> (Read the previous stories in the series first!)

_Late in the 12th century, and early 13th century, the eastern monster population in England, led by their king, moved underground after feeling powerful energy arising from a mysterious source. These monsters were called “Darkners” by humans and the monsters that did not follow them underground._

_The Darkners refer to the surface dwellers as “Lightners”, those that lived amongst the sun, and not the shadows._

_The Lightners feared the dark energy arising from the underground cave and locked the Darkners within. It was a crime the kingdom wouldn’t forget, almost like an ultimate betrayal._

_Despite the situation, the Darkners found clarity in their prison. They lived happily under the surface, surrounded by their shadow boasting geysers, sitting within it’s irradiating power and dark glow._

_It was intoxicating._

_So much so, in fact, the energy gave certain monsters side effects from its power. One particular subject was the Darkner’s lead Knight. He developed the power to create more of these dark fountains, but his sanity dwindled as a result. Each day, it slowly faded, as did his morality and ethics._

_This happened to be the case for several of the shadow creeping monsters._

_*_

_When the Monster and Human war ended, monsters from all over the world were pushed underground by their human successors. England was no exception._

_The Darkner king, Spades, felt his stomach churn as he saw the Lightner monsters invade his once perfect kingdom. The North King of Clubs, South King of Diamonds, and West King of Hearts, along with their subjects, crawled down the cave stairs with pleading eyes._

_“We have nowhere else to go.” They told him. “The humans forced us here.”_

_But Spades felt no remorse for them. They remained nothing in his eyes. Nothing like his true subjects._

_They learned to stay out of the King’s affairs._

_*_

_The new arrivals eventually, though the time is not known, caught wind of what the Darkners were hiding. They began to feel it, too. The pull. The energy. The toxicity. They wanted to have it just as badly._

_The other once-Lightner Kings, from the north, south, and west, built their power up once again. They fortified their own kingdoms in their own territories. The Darkener King knew this was a challenge to his authority. They wanted what the True Darkners had. He wouldn’t allow it._

_They said it would cause an imbalance. An imbalance between light and dark. Nonsense._

_“What balance?” Spades thought to himself. “There never was balance, was there? Not at all.”_

_Then one day, his Knight suggested a brute approach. Rebel against the other kingdoms, and win._

_“We were here first.” He told Spades. “They will learn that they don’t belong here, your highness.”_

_Spades followed the Knight’s plan, and they did succeed. Easily. Spades was surprised but didn’t question anything. He saw the Knight’s power during the rebellion. He knew better than to test it._

_With the other 3 kings dead, the Knight ordered the remaining civilians and soldiers to bow to King Spades’ rule. They did, and questioned nothing_.


	2. Tarot and Voodoo

     Jevil and Seam were well-known show performers on the surface. They used their magic for fun and entertainment. Though, once they followed Spades underground, the king had different ideas for them. He elected Seam as the Court Mage and Magician. Jevil was the Court Jester and Entertainer. Neither monster complained since they were still able to do what they loved. It was the perfect prison, as Seam put it.

 

“Isn’t it just wonderful Seam?” Jevil laughed gleefully. “It isn’t much different than the surface!”

 

The older cat-like monster lightly chuckled, gazing at the Tarot cards he held in his hands. “So it seems.”

 

Seam would never mention to Jevil, but he didn’t see a brighter future ahead. Whatever the fountains were doing to the other monsters wasn’t affecting him at all. He felt nothing. No pride. No joy. No future.

 

He silently regretted following Spades’ delusions. The man was absolutely crazy.

 

The mage kept his true feelings silent, for Jevil’s sake. The jester wanted to follow Spades underground since he believed the King’s claim of happiness to be found there. Jevil pleaded for Seam to come with him, and Seam wanted Jevil to be happy, so he did. Seam promised the two would never part, and he would keep that promise.

 

No matter what.

 

“I’m going home to gather up my stuff,” Seam started, slipping the cards into his robe. “Would you like me to pack yours, too?”

 

Jevil beamed. “Oh, how kind of you Seam! You don’t have to-” He paused and thought for a moment. “Someone would have to clean out our new room, wouldn’t they?” Jevil smiled. “You can go pack our stuff. I’ll clean out our new room.”

 

Seam looked back at Jevil before heading towards the castle’s exit. The devil skipped happily to the guest rooms, humming a tune. The mage smiled lightly.

 

Though he wouldn’t voice it, Seam knew he would have no purpose in the Underground without Jevil. The jester was not just his performing partner, he was his closest friend. If it wasn’t for him, Seam would never have come here. He doesn’t like the Underground, but then again, he wouldn’t like it on the surface if Jevil wasn’t there, either.

 

     As he walked through the castle town, Seam gazed at the other monsters busying around. The mage pulled his robe tight around him. He would rather do without all the commotion, really. These people mean nothing to him. They are but noise and annoyance. Seam growled, trying to quickly make his way to his and Jevil’s home.

 

Finally reaching the carefully constructed house, Seam closed the door as quickly as he opened it. The feline mage packed the boxes he already had inside the home. He made sure to go as fast as he could. Jevil wasn’t a very patient person.

 

Seam was packing the last box before stopping. In his hands, he held 5 abnormally large needles. He frowned. Seam recognized these needles from earlier in his life. It was an act he used to do, but he also used this “trick” for far more sinister purposes. He closed his remaining eye, and his button eye twisted as he remembered a faint memory.

 

_The young kitten cried to his mother, but no tears fell. “Please tell me, mama, what’s wrong with me?” He held his own left eye in his hands as his “Mother” retrieved her sewing tools._

_She returned to him and hugged her son tightly. “There is nothing wrong with you, my child.”_

_“I’m not real, am I?” He cried._

_She held his face, gently setting the glass eye aside, and picked through various buttons that would replace it. “But you are real, Seam. You are my son.”_

_The boy didn’t understand. “But momma, I’m full of stuffing! I’m...I’m a…”_

_The woman held up a large orange button, and compared it to the boy’s face. “I know you don’t understand right now, but...You’re real, but, different.” She sighed. “You’re my doll, Seam. My handsome little voodoo doll.” She whispered, tying a black thread around a needle. “I made you because I could have no children, and I casted a spell to bring you to life. But even if you are a doll, I still love you so. I will fix you when you fall apart, and I’ll still love you dearly, my son.” She kissed his plush forehead, then gestured to the button. “Do you like it?”_

_Seam tried to understand. He knew about magic, and he knew he was different from other children, but he never knew this was even possible. He looked just like other monsters, even if he had a few stitches here and there. He thought that was just how he was. Seam looked up to his “mother.” “I like it.” He quietly said. Before the woman could sew it on, the boy hugged her. “And I love you too.”_

 

Seam realized he was thinking too long. The mage quickly placed the needles in the box and closed it. He then casted a levitation spell on the boxes and left back for the castle. He knew he shouldn’t keep Jevil waiting.


	3. We've Got Time

     In the years that followed, the Four Kings mutually agreed that they should attempt to contact the other underground sanctuaries. There would be many benefits, the most important being trade. Considering England is on an island, it is separated from the rest of Europe. The only way they would be able to contact the others is through the underground caves that lead to the ocean and traveling underwater. It would be a job for the aquatic monsters, of course.

 

Within a few months, they were successful. The Darkners managed to locate the Mal kingdom in France, the Bestia society in Spain, the kingdom of Zloy in Slavia, the Dyr kingdom in Scandinavia, and most importantly, the Dreemurr kingdom in Germany. Asgore was a well-known name back when the monsters were on the surface. Being on good terms with the Dreemurr’s was in everyone’s best interest.

 

The Kings and Queens of each sanctuary decided to connect the kingdoms together, creating underwater paths so traveling between each one wouldn’t be a chore. The task was time-consuming, and many thought it would never be completed, but the monsters pulled through. It was a success, and almost instantly, to no one’s surprise, Asgore Dreemurr made it his goal to visit each and every kingdom, where he would be accompanied by Queen Toriel and his royal mage, Gaster.

 

The Four Kings gladly welcomed their arrival.

 

*

 

     When Asgore arrived, he felt the wave of toxic euphoria hit him like a slap. The king quickly covered his face with his cape. Toriel coughed lightly and covered her face. Gaster appeared to not be affected by it. He was a little worried.

 

Toriel's throat became sore. “Gods, what is that?”

 

Asgore responded with a grunt. Gaster wasn't paying any mind. He was focused on the civilians.

 

Many had faded eyes and dragged themselves around as if they were tired. Groggy. Then, on the other side of the spectrum, some monsters had bloodshot eyes wider than the moon. They were turbocharged, insane or psychopathic. Maybe both.

 

Gaster was convinced that all these people were ill. Whatever this euphoric wave was, it is the cause, and it’s strong.

 

They couldn't stay here long.

 

Making their way to the castle, a local was handing out masks to visitors, claiming those that aren’t “native” wouldn’t be able to handle the fountain’s power. Gaster mentally rolled his eyes and stepped away for Asgore and Toriel to grab a mask. Gaster took one, but never put it on. He didn’t feel like he needed such a thing if he wasn’t affected by now.

 

*

 

     They finally entered the castle courtyard, and sitting at a large table in the center were 4 gigantic monsters. All different species, clad in colored cloaks. These monsters were The 4 Kings. The King of Diamonds in a green cloak. The King of Hearts in a red cloak. The King of Clubs in a yellow cloak, and the King of Spades in a blue cloak.

 

Their smiles were more sinister than friendly, but perhaps that’s because of the fountain that they don't seem to realize is killing them.

 

A large Knight approached the three and held out a hand to Agore. The king shook it happily.

 

“Welcome King Asgore.” The Knight greeted, sounding almost with forced cheer. “I hope you find comfort here, and perhaps stay a while.”

 

Toriel and Gaster glanced at each other. They were silent but knew that they both were having the same thoughts. Asgore simply nodded to the Knight.

 

The Knight led the trio to the table and pulled out chairs for them. The three sat down, then looked to the kings.

 

Spades what the first to speak. “Before we tour the castle, drink some tea. I promise it will be to your liking, Asgore.”

 

Asgore and Toriel simply held the teacups, not taking a sip, and talked instead. Gaster sipped some of it. It was an odd taste. He decided not to touch the rest.

 

     Inside the castle, Gaster quickly caught the aroma of burning herbs. Toriel and Asgore were busy with the other monarchs, surely they wouldn’t mind if he split off from them. He began to search for the source. Every kingdom has a royal mage, he thought. That must be it.

 

The skeletal monster stepped through a dark corridor where the scent grew stronger. Gaster glanced at a soft light, what looked like a dim fire, and it was behind a door. Drawing closer, Gaster could hear a soft conversation from behind it.

 

A cheerful man’s voice spoke up. “I don’t think I understand how all that stuff works, Seam. Could you explain? It seems interesting.”

 

The other voice was too low to make out what he was saying.

 

“Okay, that makes sense. So what if you mix in something else? Like flowers or- Wh- Seam! You’re too kind! You needn’t say such sweet things.” He laughed.

 

Gaster lightly knocked on the door. He quickly adjusted his robes. I hope I’m not intruding.

 

“I’ll get it!” He heard the cheerful one say.

 

The door flew open, faster than the skeleton expected. His eyes met with a shorter devilish monster, lilac skinned with black sclera and yellow pupils. He was black haired with little horns protruding from his head. He was dressed in casual attire, white tunic, and deer hide pants, but judging from his harlequin makeup, he was the court jester.

 

“Hello!” The devil greeted. “What brings you here? You’re clearly not native.”

 

Gaster smiled awkwardly, his eyes darting everywhere around the room. “I um, well, I’m Gaster, and I’m the royal mage of the Dreemurr kingdom, and uh,”

 

The older cat-like monster stood up from his desk. “You wanted to hang with what you’re familiar with? I know the feeling, sir, believe me.” He walked over to the skeleton. “I am Seam.” He gestured to the shorter monster. “He’s Jevil.”

 

Seam was a large monster, feline in appearance, but he wasn’t organic. Gaster noticed stitches lining Seam’s arms and fingers, sewn patches on his head and legs, and loose stitches over his mouth. One eye was an orange marble, and he had a button over the other. It was clear that he was alive, with a soul, but he was no regular life form. Seam was a living doll.

 

“Do you two work together?” Gaster asked.

 

“We’re partners.” Seam answered. “Um- Show partners.” He corrected himself, with an awkward laugh. He hoped Jevil didn’t notice. “We were a team on the surface, but when Spades brought us down here, he gave us more important jobs, I suppose.”

 

Gaster nodded. "What is it you’re making over there?” He asked.

 

Seam stepped back over to his desk. “Familiar with alchemy, eh? Come see for yourself. It’s my own concoction.” He grinned.

 

Jevil followed Seam over to where they were before. He sat back down on the fur seat. “Tell us about yourself, too, sir Gaster. What’s your story?”

 

Gaster looked over to the dim fireplace. “It’s very complicated…”

 

Seam chuckled. “We’ve got time.”


	4. Elegy for the Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm, psychological abuse, murder (not really, some people die, and an important character sorta dies, but it's not permanent, warning just in case)

     After the Dreemurr’s visit, Seam noticed everyone’s behavior begin to change. It wasn’t like they weren’t odd before, but now…

 

Seam wasn’t particularly worried about the other citizens in the Dark World. They brought this upon themselves. Who he was anxious about was Jevil.

 

The devil’s behavior was becoming deranged. Jevil was always a bit eccentric, it was simply a part of his happy nature, but now it seemed as if he was far off the rails, nearly if not already demented.

 

No one else has quite caught on to the jester's behavior yet. No one except Seam and he was more than worried.

 

The mage was awoken in the dead hours of the night by odd noises springing up here and there. It was either shuffling, soft movement, creeks, faint laughter or a mixture of all. Seam tossed and turned, trying to ignore the noises, but failed. At the sound of breaking glass, Seam jolted up out of his bed and rushed into the other room. Sitting in front of candlelight was the familiar figure of Jevil, but he was facing away from Seam. The devil was in his sleepwear and appeared to be shaking rather vigorously.

 

As the mage approached Jevil, he heard soft whispering. It was nonsensical, almost like quiet hysterical crying. Seam stepped closer.

 

He heard slicing. The sound of a blade against tender skin. Seam sucked in a quick breath.

 

“Jevil! What are you doing!? What-”

 

The devil monster ignored him and continued mumbling. “They’re inside me…I'm a sinner...” He whimpered.

 

Seam stepped over to face him. Jevil had a broken ceramic piece in his hand and was attacking his own arms. The mage was hesitant to grab Jevil’s hand. If he were to be too rough, he could cause the lesions to be far worse. They were already swollen and dripping blood.

 

“They’re inside me. Inside me! They're punishing me, punishing me!”

 

“What’s inside you?! Who's punishing you!?”

 

“The bugs. All the bugs. Worms, spiders, ants, and roaches. They’re crawling inside! Inside, inside! I've lived impure, and this is my punishment!”

 

Seam didn’t know what to do. He didn't understand what happening in Jevil's head. He was mentally disturbed, clearly. The mage saw nothing on him, or in these cuts.

 

“There’s nothing there, Jevil. You are alright, please just...”

 

The imp ignored him and continued to whisper. “They’re inside, inside…”

 

Almost immediately after, the jester went to strike himself again. Seam, using a perfectly timed levitation spell, ripped the ceramic out of Jevil’s hand.

 

“Jevil,” He rasped, trying to stay calm. “Please calm down. There’s nothing there. You are no sinner, please stay calm...”

 

The jester shivered. He felt the room grow cold. His skin was prickly as thick amounts of blood rolled down and dripped off of his arm. Seam quickly rushed over to the wash basin and snatched the cloth off of it. He brought the washcloth back over to the disturbed jester and tore it in half to clean off the gashes. Seam then wrapped the cloth around both of Jevil’s arms.

 

Seam sat quietly next to the jester for a few moments. Jevil held his hands over his ears, mumbling nonsense. Seam reached to place his hands on his shoulder. Jevil shuddered.

 

“Hey…” Seam whispered. “I’ll get you some Roman Chamomile. It will calm your nerves…”

 

Jevil was quiet. Seam walked into the kitchen area of his room. Digging through the bins, he took a handful of Chamomile flowers and began to prepare the tea. He tried to drown out the situation with past memories, but the mage's thoughts began to overwhelm him.

 

What would come of this? Is this only a temporary change? Will he be like this forever?

 

Seam knew that those fountains are the cause of the Kingdom's insanity. He knows that the Knight wanted this to happen. The Knight planned to increase the kingdom's power. He wanted to take the surface from the Lightners. It was obvious, but Spades thought nothing of it.

 

Seam tried to bring up the topic with the king before, but Spades dismissed it as nonsense. Even if the current events were evidence of the fountain's danger, Seam knows he would give the same responses as before. Spades hasn't listened to him before, why would he now?

 

Just as he finished up the tea, Seam heard soft footsteps behind him. He turned around, and his eyes met with Jevil. He was still in his sleepwear. A white gown, stained with a few red droplets from the incident earlier. He held a small plush pillow tightly in his hands. Jevil appeared anxious. In reality, the jester didn't know how to feel at the moment. His mind was a blank slate.

 

Seam slowly stepped towards him and held out the cup. “Here,” he softly said. “Take it. It will help, I promise.”

 

The imp glanced from Seam to the cup. Jevil clasped his hands around the cup and pulled it to himself. The smell was calming itself. Jevil felt the urge to just sit down, or go to sleep. He stumbled over to the nearest chair, sipping the tea with half lifted eyes.

 

Seam sighed. He was tired, but he refused to go back to bed until he knew Jevil was safe and content. He wouldn't allow this to happen again. The last thing he wants is to wake up and find his best friend dead on the floor.

 

Seam didn't sleep at all, in fact. He stayed awake next to the imp's bed, making sure he slept soundly until morning.

 

*

 

    “Seam! Seam please hurry!”

 

It was a line the mage grew used to after a while. Jevil said it so much, Seam wondered if the jester would address him any other way.

 

Seam understood why, though. Jevil grew attached to him after the “incident”. At this point, it's been a year since then. Jevil has gotten better. Seam was happy.

 

Until...

 

“Seam! Seam, please hurry!” The jester's familiar voice cried out.

 

Seam finished fixing the collar of his exaggeratedly decorated outfit. They were getting ready for a rather important performance. Spades’ son, Lancer, had just turned 5, and any monster who had had affiliation with circus acts on the surface were instructed to put on a show for the Prince.

Seam heard Jevil's call but didn't put much haste in his step, since he was so used to Jevil saying it for no particular purpose.

 

“Seam, PLEASE!”

 

It was then that the mage quickened his pace, heading for Jevil's dressing room. Seam approached his door and knocked vigorously. “Jevil? What's wrong?”

 

No response.

 

Seam opened the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, and there was no sign of the devil. Seam was about to call out, but someone spoke before him.

 

“I don't want to…”

 

Seam picked up the light sound of Jevil's voice. He glanced around the room, trying to locate the jester. He couldn't be far. “Don't want to what?”

 

“To perform.”

 

This was very out of character, Seam noted. Jevil loved to perform. It was his passion. Why is he rejecting it? What would cause him to do such a thing? As Seam walked around the dressing room, he found Jevil sitting in the corner, hidden behind some clothing racks.

 

Seam crouched down to him. “What's going on, Jevil?”

 

The imp didn't look up at him. “I just...I just don't have the motivation. I don't want to go out and not do my best…”

 

Seam frowned. “I understand, but the Four Kings are expecting us. Imagine their disappointment.”

 

“I know, but-”

 

Seam pushed the clothing racks out the way. Jevil sat on the floor, with his knees pulled to his chest. Seam noticed Jevil wasn't wearing the outfit Spades had tailored specifically for him. 

 

"You're not in costume?"

 

"Rouxls said I didn't need to wear it this time, since it's a performance for the Prince, and not Spades himself..."

 

Seam hated the implication. He's never seen anything happen firsthand, but the second he saw that outfit, something felt off. Very off. 

 

"Besides that," Jevil continued, "I don't-"

 

Jevil was cut off by a knock upon the dressing room door and a rather sophisticated yell. “Mage? Jester? T’is time f'r thy performance! The others has't already arrived, and the Kings art waiting f'r thee!”

 

The two recognized this as Rouxls Kaard, Spades’ Duke and second in command. Spades must have sent him.

 

“Just a second.” Seam called back to him.

 

Rouxls scoffed. “Thee better hie up! The Kings shall not beest patient much longer!”

 

Seam listened as the tapping of Rouxls shoes faded. Jevil spoke up. “I'll go.” He whispered. “But I can't promise it'll be anything good.”

 

*

 

    His vision was blurry. His head was aching. He heard his last remaining glass eye rolling across the wooden stage, the shrieks of audience members, and the angry growls of the Kings.

 

Seam doesn't recall what happened.

 

He remembers the audience was filled with astonishment, the kings were smiling, and the Prince was continuously giggling away. It's been a long while since Seam was with a large crew like this, but it was working out. Jevil was doing fantastic.

 

Until something snapped within him. Seam remembers other performers flying off the stage as if some powerful force pushed them across the room.

 

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

 

“Grab the halfwit bastard!” He heard Spades scream.

 

“The Jester is gone, sire.” Rouxls responded with disdain.

 

Spades growled. “Then find him, and when you do, throw him in the Sanitarium!”

 

Sanitarium? Seam has never heard of that place. By the sound of it, it must not be pleasant.

 

Seam attempted to stand, but struggled. His head was throbbing, his arms were growing limp, and the deafening noises around him weren't helping at all. He had to find him. He had to find Jevil before the others do.

 

Seam finally managed to lift himself up off the stage. He heaved and tried to move as quickly as he could backstage to the dressing rooms. The mage searched Jevil's common hiding places. Hopefully, Seam thought, he was there and they could figure out this mess. Worse possibility, there would be no fixing this.

 

Seam hoped the latter was improbable, but deep down he knew it was more than likely.

 

Down the darkened hall, the mage peered as far as he could see, which wasn't a lot. The sconces on the wall only emitted so much light. It was dim.

 

A distant thump, a few hushed whispers, and soft maniacal laughter is what led Seam to the imp's location. Within their recently destroyed room, underneath torn and shredded sheets, was the amethyst-skinned jester, wide-eyed and cackling like a madman.

 

“...Jevil?”

 

With the call of his name, the jester's hysterical strolls only grew louder. Seam attempted to hush him but failed.

 

“You'll draw attention to yourself!” Seam scolded. “You're already wanted as it is! Just-”

 

Jevil cut him off, looking into the broken mirror on the floor. “Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror, and wanted to peel off your own face?”

 

Seam paused. “...What?”

 

“It is what everyone you meet first sees, you know. They may see your face and never think much else of you or who you are. They simply base their biased beliefs upon your outer image, and not your soul or spirit…” He hummed. “And if you never had one, what could they judge you by? Ever thought about it like that, Seam?”

 

The mage stood still. Confused. What is all this nonsense he's going on about?

 

Jevil rocked himself back and forth, the bells on his hat jingling along with the movement. He chuckled. “So what of it, though? Why would it matter, their beliefs and opinions about your own self? It is only you who knows who you are, of course, but in the end, why would your own existence matter?” Jevil levitated a flower from the still-standing vase and moved it towards Seam. “We were born just to die, you know.” He softly said as the flower quickly wilted. “So why would anything we do matter in the end? Our memories? Our experience? Even love? Why _would_ it matter, Seam?”

 

The older monster snapped out of thought after realizing he was mentioned. He shook his head. “....Well, the things you've done will be in the minds of others, and your impact will be remembered. Is that not a good ending?”

 

Jevil chuckled. “That is what they say. In reality, if reality is true, would that be the case? Think about this, a world where everything is the same, except you don't exist, but it functions _perfectly_ without you. You're not important, never were, and your existence is pointless.”

 

Seam tried to make sense of Jevil's nonsensical sputters. “Where are you getting all this from? What has gotten into you?”

 

“Do you not remember our grand performance? Oh, how it was fantastic, fantastic!”

 

It was sudden, but the memories he lost those moments ago quickly flooded back.

 

_Jevil was hanging upside down by his tail. The other performers were bouncing around every other way. Energy was flowing, and everyone was entertained. Especially the Prince, it seemed. The child was full of happiness. Seam created various shapes and colors out of the magic essence that floated overhead. The Prince attempted to reach out and grab them. The Spade Queen smiled happily as the child babbled excitedly in her lap._

_All was as planned for the first 10 minutes or so until the Knight stepped into the room. It was almost as if something had shattered within the jester. The sight caused him to lose his composure, and the closer the Knight became, the more anxious Jevil grew._

_Almost in an instant, it was pure chaos._

_One dancer lost her balance upon the tightrope. 15 feet she fell, snapping her neck on the wooden stage. A sword swallower messed up his act, and the blade exited his abdomen almost cleanly. A beastmaster couldn't control his Chimera's sudden aggression and was swallowed head first. Several other performers were launched simultaneously off the stage and onto the floor. Seam was forcefully pushed across the stage, slamming his head onto the wall. He was out cold._

_Jevil was untouched. It was him that caused this chaos. In a state of panic, he managed up this power that harmed everyone around him, starting absolute chaos, and disappearing as quickly as it started. He disappeared, too_

 

Seam gasped. “You…”

 

Jevil frowned. “It was not intentional. I saw him, and I just...panicked. I don't know why. I didn't even know I could do that stuff, Seam…”

 

Before Seam could console him, the jester perked up and smiled again. “Regardless, there is nothing to dwell on. Even if everything we know is a lie, I still have you, Seam! Always have, always will!” He grinned. “Right?”

 

The mage stared back, brows furrowed. “Jevil, before the Dreemurr's left, what did Gaster tell you?”

 

The imp's smile faded. “Huh?”

 

“When you stepped out to talk to him, what did he say to you?”

 

“Oh…” Jevil remembered. He smiled once again. "I had questions, and he gave me answers. He is quite the genius, I'll say.”

 

Seam sighed. “What _were_ the questions?”

 

“He mentioned his kingdom's belief in the Seraphim, quite the opposite from ours. They believe the angel will help them, to bring them light and hope, but we believe the angel is our enemy and will bring us destruction. Interesting, is it not?”

 

Seam stayed quiet, and let him talk.

 

“But who knows, maybe there is no angel at all? There is _nothing_ coming to save anyone, and we'll all rot here…” He giggled. “Or, there is solitude to be found, and only the pure can access it. All these, _sinners_ , who think they have the privilege of making their deeds null in the eyes of the higher power are insignificant. It is truly pathetic.” Jevil grinned. “But, I jest. Indeed, I do, for I am the Jester, of course.”

 

Seam wasn't sure what to say. He's never put much thought into an afterlife and never really believed in such a thing. It didn't seem that important to him. After all this, though, he's not sure what to believe in.

 

Before Seam could ask anything else, he heard heavy footsteps closing in on the area. A loud voice followed. “Jester! Showeth yourself! I wonneth't asketh much else, and I gage to keepeth thee alive if 't be true thee comply.” Rouxls shouted aloud.

 

As if on cue, the jester cackled. “Here they come, Seam. Whatever will we do? Hehe…”

 

The door swung open, and Rouxls stepped in. “Mage,” he addressed. “I see thee has't hath found the jester. T'is the Kings' charge yond he beest taken to the lower floors. To the Sanitarium. I suggest thee hie on with it.”

 

Seam looked back at Jevil. He still had a smile upon his face.

 

Rouxls spoke up. “Or shouldst I taketh care of it myself?”

 

“Should we speak to the Kings first?” Seam asked.

 

“F'r what? They has't did order it beest done.”

 

“And if they have other suggestions?”

 

Rouxls hummed. “I suppose thou art right. Good now, bringeth the fool.” He turned on his heels and left the room.

 

Seam stepped over to the jester, helped him up to his feet and kept him steady. Jevil chuckled and mimicked the Duke. “Bringeth the fool…”

 

*

 

Seam kept a tight grip on Jevil's hand as he lead him to the throne room. The Kings were fuming with anger. They were practically shaking in their thrones, fists clenched and nostrils flaring. The Spade Queen sat silently in her throne, holding and consoling Spades' weeping child.

 

The mage approached slowly, tugging for Jevil to follow. The jester showed no fear and laughed while facing the Kings.

 

Rouxls bowed. “I bringeth thee the jester, mine own Kings.” He gestured to Jevil.

 

Spades grimaced. “Good. Take him away. I don't want to see his face for as long as I live.”

 

Seam's eye widened. He tightened his grip on the imp's hand. Jevil didn't notice.

 

“How shalt we taketh care of him?” The Duke asked.

 

Hearts spoke up. “Death penalty.”

 

Diamonds raised a brow. “Death? Ridiculous. I'd suggest prison, but not death.”

 

Clubs scoffed. “Death is too merciful, in my honest opinion. I suggest torture for life.”

 

Spades pinched between his brows. “As I suggested earlier, send him to the sanitarium with the other halfwit madmen. Alive.”

 

Rouxls nodded. “Aye sire, but how shalt we knoweth if't be true the prison shall hold him?”

 

The Spade King glanced at Seam, who was unknowingly stiff with fear. “The Mage will take care of it.”

 

Seam looked away. Something shattered within himself. He heard the bells on Jevil's hat faintly ring and felt the jester's gaze. Voices flooded his thoughts, all the questions Jevil would be asking right now if the imp was in his right mind. If only that were the case.

 

“Get on with it, mage. I want a powerfully constructed cage for that thing. ”

 

Seam lead Jevil out the throne room as they followed Rouxls to this “sanitarium.” Seam wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle the upcoming situation he was being pushed into. Not at all.

 

*

 

The mage heard the shrills before he reached the bottom of the stairs. The groaning and weeping of innocents. It was disturbing and sickening all at the same time.

 

“We might not but stayeth quiet. They like not loud noises…” Rouxls whispered.

 

As the three walked quietly through the prison, the captive monsters stared up at them. Some reached through the bars, trying to grab at their clothes. Others simply cried out, pleading for freedom. Seam couldn't bear to look at them very long. It hurt his soul to see them suffering, but he knew he had no power to object their situation, no matter how badly he wanted to.

 

Jevil tugged at Seam's sleeve and whispered, “Look at them, Seam. Their agony, agony. So sad, is it not? Someone should inform the Kings, isolation doesn't fix insanity. It fuels it, you know. Though perhaps someone did, and they never objected again, again…” He giggled. “No matter, just tell them an angel is coming to free them, give them hope of a future, and let them wallow in it. That'll work, won't it?” His remark was tinged with sarcasm.

 

The three stopped once Rouxls paused in place. “Hither, far in the back.” He spoke up and pointed to a cell deep in the sanitarium. It was seemingly larger than the rest and was almost pitch black within. “A vast and stout cell, perfect f'r the mad jester.” Rouxls turned to Seam. “Mage, lock him up at once. Enchant the cell f'r good measure. I shall beest upstairs. It would beest in thy best interest to hie.” With that, the duke left with speed. Seam supposed he couldn't stand the site either.

 

Jevil stared at the cell, and back to Seam. The jester's smile, the smile he wore this entire night, faded away when his eyes met the bars of the cell. He shook a bit. “S-Seam…” He sputtered. “Seam, you're not going to actually d-do this, are you…?”

 

Seam was silent. He quickly unlocked the cell and held open the door. He didn't face the jester. Jevil stepped back. With a simple gesture of his hand, the imp slid across the prison floors, and to the cell door. He was shaking.

 

“Seam, please don't. I can't be here, I-”

 

“You think if I had a choice in the matter, that I'd do this to you?!” Seam interrupted. “I wouldn't DREAM of treating someone like this, especially you, Jevil!” Realizing his tone, the mage lowered his voice. “Why would I ever?”

 

Jevil sunk down and looked away. “I...I don't know, Seam…”

 

Seam’s solemn expression conveyed the thoughts he couldn't say aloud. Feelings and emotions he felt since they were on the surface. Seam was never one to voice his feelings and simply showed them through actions. Despite his efforts, all this time, Jevil has yet to notice anything. It seems the jester was much more oblivious than Seam originally thought.

 

It only made the situation worse for him.

 

Without warning, Seam placed his hand on Jevil's shoulder, gently pushing him into the cell. Before Jevil could push it back open, Seam quickly locked it. Then, he began carving runes onto the bars and walls around the cell, preparing an enchantment.

 

Jevil gripped onto the bars. “Seam!” He called out. “Seam! _Please_ let me out! _Please!_ ” He cried. “I can't- I can't-” He wheezed. “LET ME OUT, SEAM! _LET ME OUT!_ ”

 

The devil began violently shaking the bars, clawing against them, scratching and screeching to the top of his lungs. His eyes, wider than the moon, he stared into nothing and screamed so terribly loud, full of anger, sadness, and fear. The outburst riled up the other prisoners, and in unison, they cried out into that nothing. An elegy for the void.

 

Seam tried to drown out the noise. He tried to think about anything other than this place. Anything other than Jevil's situation. Happy memories from the past, but, they all revolved around his once gleeful and smiling imp friend. His big, sharp-toothed smile that shone brightly in the European sun.

 

Thinking about the past, those memories, it only hurt him more.

 

Seam tried to ignore the screaming around him as he carved the final rune into the stone. The mage slapped his hand against the wall, and each rune illuminated the shadow-filled prison with a white glow. Jevil quickly let go of the bars once he felt a scorching heat against his hands.

 

Seam approached the cell. Jevil shook his hands vigorously, hissing at the pain. He looked up at Seam, who wasn't facing him directly.

 

“...So, this is how we'll part ways, huh?” Jevil whispered. Seam didn't answer, but he didn't need to. The Jester burst into maniacal laughter. “Of course! Why, I wouldn't have it _ANY_ other way! The misery! The _dismay!_ The _abandonment!_ All the torture needed for a dirty, dirty _sinner!_ Uee hee HAH!”

 

Seam stepped back from the cage. Jevil continued on his demented train of thought. “Well, so long, Seam! It's not as if I needed you anyways! And clearly, you don't need me!”

 

“No, you don't understand-”

 

“Of course I don't! I'm the fool, remember? The Joker! I jest, for I'm the wild card! We all go mad eventually, as they say. Perhaps it was my destiny!” He cackled. “Imagine the irony!”

 

“Jevil, listen, I would give anything to reverse this, anything-”

 

The imp's smile contorted into a frown. “Sure you would, but that will _NEVER_ happen, will it? There is no reversal in this world! Your sympathies and consolements have no meaning anymore! What power do words have when you're locked in a cold cellar for eternity?”

 

He was right. Seam knew it, but he had no power, no authority to change this, and Jevil refused to understand that.

 

Jevil's wide smile returned, but it wasn't bright or happy as Seam remembered. It wasn't full of heart. It was dark. Morbid. It had a face behind it.

 

It was evil.

 

“Heh heh, but I'm not the one locked away, Seam. You are!” The jester giggled. “Spades wasn't upset by those monster's deaths, you know. He is afraid of what I know!”

 

Seam raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

 

Jevil flicked his tail. “The Knight, Seam. Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, none of them are truly in control. It's the Knight. He has the power. He tells them what to do. They are just the cover-up.” He tilted his head. “And I thought you were the smart one, _Seamy._ ”

 

“...How do you know all this?”

 

“Well, first would be observation. Second, the Dreemurr Royal Mage.” He chuckled. “Quite the monster, he is.”

 

Seam stiffened. “...What did he tell you?”

 

“Many things, Seam. Turns out, the Knight intended to poison the Dreemurrs. He felt that they were in the way of his operation, to infect the surface. He knows that Gaster was once human, and especially needs him out of the picture. Gaster knows much about both human and monster life, he's highly intelligent. The Knight knows this, and wants him gone.” He frowned. “...and just so you know, Seam, there was no saving me. The second we arrived down here, my sanity was fading away.”

 

In his words, Seam felt like he saw a small trickle of the jester's former self. Only a hint, but it was there, and it left just as quickly.

 

“That's what Gaster said, anyway. But what do I know?” He chuckled. “I can feel it, you know. A dark future. There is no angel, good or bad, just darkness. The big, empty void. The nothingness, but it feels so...welcoming.” Jevil's gaze suddenly shifts to the side. Behind Seam, and down the hall are the stairs that lead up to the main floor. On those stairs, a shadowy figure descends. Jevil's heart rate accelerates.

 

Seam takes notice. “What's wrong?”

 

Jevil shifts back to the mage. “It's _his_ fault, y'know. The reason why I'm like this. It was him. He wanted this to happen to me. He says I'm special. The Skeleton does, too. They both say I need this, and that they need me here in order for the "truth to be told." I didn't question it. The Skeleton was kind about it, but the other....I don't like him...”

 

“Who?”

 

Jevil pointed over Seam's shoulder. He looked behind himself and saw nothing. “There's nothing there.” He said and turned back to the jester.

 

In Jevil's mind, there was something there. A tall, dark figure, covered in heavy armor, and shadows flowing off his body. Shining through his helmet were two bright red eyes, and in his hands, he held a steel greatsword. He slowly approached, each step a loud stomp, followed by clanking armor and raspy breathing underneath his helmet. Jevil quickly scooted away from the cell, kicking his legs and taking short breaths that turned into gasps.

 

“G-Go away!” He shrieked. “Leave me alone!”

 

Seam edged closer, frightened but unsure about what to do. “Jevil, please-”

 

The Knight stood directly behind Seam, reaching its hand through the bars and hovered just above Jevil's small frame. The imp pulled his legs to his chest, placed his hands over his ears, and curled into a self-protective ball. “Go away…” he whispered. “Please go away…”

 

Seam sighed, shakily. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Jevil alone, especially in this condition.

 

There was only one thing Seam knew would work in this situation, but he would never intentionally use it on anyone, and certainly not Jevil, but as of now, he had no other solutions.

 

It was either this or leave him to suffer in isolation for eternity.

 

Seam circled his hand around his face, causing Jevil's to glow a bright hue. The imp uncovered his ears and glanced up at Seam. He was confused at first but suddenly understood what was happening.

 

“D-Do it.” He sputtered. “I'll thank you in the Void.”

 

The mage summoned one of his large needles into his hand. He raised it up to his own head. Jevil smiled.

 

“You aren't organic, yes, so you'll be fine…”

 

“But you won't.”

 

“Not that I'd care much for that. I'd rather be food for the rats than hallucinate my own torture and death for all of eternity.” Jevil chuckled. “Go on, then.”

 

Seam hesitated. Jevil was becoming impatient.

 

“Please, just do it. Please. If you want me to be happy, you'll do this for me, Seam.”

 

If he was physically capable, tears would be flowing down Seam's face.

 

“ _Goddamnit, Seam, PLEASE!_ ”

 

The mage plunged the needle into his head. It exited smoothly on the other side. In that instant, Jevil was out cold. Seam pulled the needle out, a few puffs of sticks and stuffing leaving with it. Using a simple levitation spell, Seam moved the imp's small limp body into the fur bedding. Not looking back, Seam stepped up the stone stairs and left the sanitarium behind him.

 

Just as he did, the shadows underneath the steps marveled together, and the echoes of clanking metal ran through the dark halls, and to the large cell far in the back.

 

*

 

In that void, Jevil felt absolute freedom. The great power that overcame all imperfections, of others and himself, he felt truly free. There was no concept of insignificant things such as time or space, none of that was important, for it simply caused unnecessary worry. There's no need for worry when you had freedom.

 

It was then that he saw him. The figure in the void. A figure he recognized so well. The cracked skull and crooked smile of the Dreemurr mage he met all those, what seemed like, days ago. He promised such wonderful things, power, and happiness, and still ensured freedom.

 

“You make whatever you please, jester.” He said. “It is your home now.”

 

And so he did.

 

When Jevil awoke, he was no longer in that cell. He was in a paradise of his own making. In his mind, it was nothing but a carnival.


End file.
